


my skin, tingling

by Mrs_Moony



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, Interrupted, M/M, Pancakes, Sharing Clothes, idk what to tag, some angst oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10019576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Moony/pseuds/Mrs_Moony
Summary: Mickey has been staying with the Gallaghers and he's found himself becoming comfortable. Actually, it's more than that. It feels like comfort, like safety, like... home.Plus, he and Ian can't keep their hands off each other, which may or may not be a problem in a household full of people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this work has been translated into Russian: https://ficbook.net/readfic/5339741/13753963

There were a few things Mickey noticed when he woke up.

First, he was cold. Freezing, actually. He could feel the blanket scrunched up by his feet and the blue shirt that Ian lent him (it matches your eyes, Mick!) wasn't nearly enough to stop his shivering.

To escape the cold, he made a grabbing motion towards where Ian was supposed to be, but his hands caught just air. Frowning, he peeped his eye open and yes – the bed was empty.

It was still early, the house quiet and unsually calm, but if he listened closely, he could hear someone making noise in the kitchen. There was no way he was gonna fall asleep again, not with Carl's snoring, so he sighed and reached into one of Ian's drawers to pull out a sweatshirt he could put on.

Once he had somehow warmed up, he walked through the room and down the stairs quietly, trying not to wake anyone, though it was a miracle that no one was woken by the noise.

It was slightly dim in the kitchen, the sun not really having reached the windows yet, but the few rays that made it through were a sight to behold. Not the light alone, but the way it illuminated Ian's face and hair. Mickey stayed on the stairs for a while and allowed himself a few moments to take it in. He'd never admit it aloud, but he thought that he'd probably never seen anyone that beautiful.

“Are you gonna stare any longer or will you join me?” Ian asked, not even turning around. Mickey must have been less subtle than he thought.

“Wasn't staring, dumbass. What're you doing up?” Once exposed, he walked in and leant against the counter. Ian turned to him and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, right. I couldn't sleep, Carl's snoring combined with your sleep-talking was just too much. I'm making pancakes, though, you want some?” Ian raised his eyebrows and pointed at a pile of pancakes and half a gallon of batter still waiting.

“Bullshit, I don't talk in my sleep.”

“Yes, you do. Oh boy, it was more than what you've said to me in those few first months combined!” Ian was grinning widely now, abandoning the pancakes to tease Mickey.

“Oh yeah?” Mickey asked grumpily. “What was I saying, then?”

Ian shook his head, laughing quietly. “I'm not telling you. Besides, you don't talk in your sleep, right?”

That was unfair, Mickey thought. Frowning, he flipped Ian off and reached for one of those deliciously smelling pancakes, only to be slapped away by defensive looking Ian.

“Don't you dare. No pancakes for you until you make yourself useful.”

“Fuck off, Gallagher,” he said, trying to sneak by him. Ian grabbed him by the waist and spun him around, laughing at the growing anger on Mickey's face. He didn't let go of him, though, and after a few unsuccessful attempts, Mickey stopped fighting altogether.

They were pressed firmly against each other, breathing heavily from the fight, and when Ian's hot breath on Mickey's neck sent shivers down his spine, the expression on his face turned to lust.

The tension was suddenly too much, so Mickey grabbed Ian's hips firmly and looked up. “You gonna kiss me or what?”

And that was all it took. The kiss started out slow, languid, Mickey's skin almost tingling with every swipe of Ian's tongue across his own. He moved his hands up Ian's back and then back down, repeating the motion until he finally sneaked his hands under his shirt, rolling it up and enjoying every curve of every muscle.

Ian's breath hitched when Mickey's cold fingers travelled across his back, and whenever Mickey scraped him with his nails, he breathed out an obscene moan into his mouth.

Suddenly, it was too much. The kiss turned from slow and deep to the gasping-for-breath, biting and sucking kind. Mickey's eyes almost rolled back into his head when Ian pressed him against the counter and grabbed his hip firmly enough to leave bruises with one hand, while the other travelled under his sweatshirt and up his belly.

It wasn't until Ian moved more south and started devouring his neck that Mickey opened his eyes, his gaze locking with a surprised Lip who was just about to walk in.

“Not to interrupt you guys, but you're burning breakfast. The fire alarm has been on for, like, ten minutes already.”

The two of them pulled away so hard that Mickey smashed his head against the cupboard. “Fucking fuck!” he shouted, rubbing the back of his head.

“Very elaborate, Mick,” Ian said, grinning, though he was, too, still blushing.

“Yeah, I tried to get them to turn in off but it was like talking to a brick wall,” a voice behind them said, and Mickey turned around swiftly.

“What the fuck, Debs? How long have you been in here?” Ian tilted his head, horrified. Debbie, Liam and even fucking Carl were all sitting at the table.

“Calm down, Jesus. Maybe two minutes, but it's not like we didn't say good morning, you were just too busy moaning into each other's mouths to notice.” Debbie shrugged it off and continued to pour the juice into Liam's bottle. Mickey almost choked and he imagined turning into a shadow just to escape that situation.

“Could someone turn the fucking alarm off? My head's gonna explode,” Fiona exclaimed loudly as she walked into the kitchen. “What?” she asked, her eyebrows jumping up. Mickey shot Ian a look, his expression pained, but Ian was looking at Lip. He didn't know what to expect – he was aware that Lip didn't like him (which was probably a mild word to use), but he seemed okay when he walked in on them.

“Nothing,” Lip shrugged, finally turning the alarm off by throwing a shoe at it. “Hey Fi, are you doing laundry today? I've got a load in my room and it's getting hard to walk beside it.” He poured himself a cup of coffee which seemed to have ended the conversation. Everybody went back to their typical hectic mornings, and though Mickey's heart was still beating fast, he returned Ian's smile.

“Help me finish these, will you?” he asked, and Mickey flipped him off, grabbing himself a plate instead. “Over my dead body, Gallagher. I avoid cooking for a reason.”

 

 

The day went on normally after that. Except for a few remarks from Carl when Ian was leaving for a run and kissed Mickey goodbye (Let's leave guys, this is gonna get R-rated in no time), no one seemed to be bothered by what happened. Mickey didn't really get it, having grown up where he has, but he was grateful. It felt good to know that, even though he's not comfortable with doing it on purpose yet, he could go and kiss his boyfriend with his whole family there and no one would care.

Slowly, the house was emptying out with everyone leaving either for school or work. Mickey had nothing to do, and since he figured that while he was staying there, he could actually make a use of himself – he knew Ian was joking but _still_ – he decided to clean up after breakfast.

He put on a different shirt of Ian's just because he could (and he may or may not have been obsessed with the smell) and walked downstairs. Starting with the plates from the table and the unidentifiable boxes that Carl had left there, he was slowly starting to see the surface underneath.

As he was putting the leftover pancakes into the fridge, he heard someone walking down the stairs. It was Lips, balancing with a pile of books and a laptop, and he seemed surprised at the sight.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sitting down at the table and actually studying its shiny surface for a while.

“Cleaning,” Mickey said, his tone indicating that it was obvious. Lip's confusion wasn't any less apparent but he shrugged it off, pulling out his notes.

They both seemed comfortable with the quiet, and Mickey was glad. He was already done with the dishes and was just about to start cleaning the counters when Lip spoke again.

“You can drop the act, you know. Ian and Fiona aren't here to praise your ass, so why bother?” his face looked calm but Mickey could hear that he was angry.

“What the fuck's your problem? I'm just cleaning up your goddamn kitchen.” He didn't want to start a fight, knowing that it wouldn't do him any good, but Lip's snarl was making his blood boil.

“Just because you're fucking my brother doesn't mean you have to pretend you actually care. The others might believe it but I'm not buying any of your shit.”

That almost set Mickey off. He had to remind himself that while it would feel good to break Lip's nose, it'd turn him into even more of an enemy in the eyes of the Gallaghers. _Since when do I even care??_

Mickey gave up on the cleaning and faced Lip with his arms crossed. “Stop talking shit and start making some sense. What are you talking about, what fucking act?!”

Lip looked him up and down, disgust written all over his face. “I know what you're doing, Mickey. I know that this whole situation is fucking convenient for you. That you've suddenly got someone hanging on your every word, actually believing this shit-show… That you've got a place to crash when your fuck up of a family isn't good enough for you. Well guess what. You don't belong here. You feel like playing house now, but once you grow bored of Ian, you're gonna leave and he's gonna be the one devastated. I'm not going to watch it happen again. I've already seen him hurt by you too many times, and I don't care how many second chances he gives you. He deserves better than you.”

It shouldn't have affected Mickey that much to hear those words. It made sense that Lip would see it like that. After all, he's only ever known Mickey as the south side thug, nothing more.

Mickey wasn't sure there was anything more to begin with.

“I know,” he said after a while, and Lip, expecting fighting and swearing, looked confused. “You're right when you say that he deserves better, I know that much. He deserves a hell of a lot better, if you ask me, but for some reason, he's stuck with me. But fuck you if you think that I'm using him, or this family or whatever the fuck you meant by that. I know that I've fucked up before and Ian knows it, too, but it's not up to you to decide what's good for him. I just… it's more than… I just wanna _be with_ him,” Mickey's voice cracked but he braced himself. “I wanna be with him, thick and thin. And I wouldn't have given a fuck about your opinion but you're Ian's family and… that matters.”  


Mickey was sure that he'd never talked for that long in front of Lip before, and he had to fight the urge to take it all back and go to what he knew, what was safe – violence. Exposing himself like that was risky, out of character, _dangerous_ , but when it came to Ian Gallagher, Mickey has learned a long time ago that he'd cross every single one of his lines for him.

“Wow,” Lip said, frowning a bit. “That was a lot of talking.”

“Fuck you.”

“There he is, the good old Mickey,” he grinned, and for the first time, it wasn't entirely antagonistic. “I might have… misjudged you, in certain things. But I still don't like you, and I don't trust you. If you ever hurt Ian, or if you just take off one day without explanation, I'm going to hunt you down and kill you.” Then, Lip smiled, which caught Mickey off guard.

Mickey had to fight everything he knew – every single ounce of his person wanted to fight, hurt, punch… kill Lip for what he'd said. For daring to threaten him. For disregarding what he and Ian had. He felt like he was shaking with rage but in reality, he was frozen still.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah, we've got a deal then.” He gritted his teeth and looked at Lip, challenging him to protest, to kick him out, to do _something_. But the fucker was no longer paying attention to him.

Mickey figured the kitchen was clean enough, and he turned around and started walking up the stairs when Lip's voice stopped him once again.

“He's happier. With you, I mean. Happier than he's been before. Even I can see that.”

The words meant a lot to Mickey, but he didn't let it show on his face. He just nodded and hurried up the stairs.

 

 

“What're you thinking about?”

“Huh?” Mickey blinked a few times, confused. He looked down and saw Ian who's been sucking marks on his thighs just a few seconds before, but Mickey was too distracted.

“You were off somewhere else. Everything alright?” The worry in Ian's voice made Mickey's stomach tangle. He didn't understand what was going on, hasn't been for a while. This whole thing between… _his boyfriend_ and him, it was driving him crazy. He noticed so much, every fucking detail about Ian, about his life, his family. He practically lived there and he's started to feel comfortable. And what Lip said to him got him thinking – thinking that maybe, he really wasn't good for Ian. Maybe he should just leave. Maybe…

“Hey,” Ian's voice purred next to his ear, and Mickey turned his head slightly. “Is this about today's morning? Because I swear, Mick, nobody gives a fuck…”

“Thank you,” he cut him off, hiding his face in the younger boy's neck. “For letting me stay. For caring. Ian, I… I care, too.” It was all he could say, for now, but those words meant a lot to him, and he knew that Ian knew that, too.

“I know. And I'm really fucking happy to have you here.”

In that simple press of Ian's lips against his own, Mickey recognized what he'd been craving all his life. The word _love_ was dancing around his mind, dangerously close to the surface, but he wasn't ready. Not yet. But one day… One day, he will be.

 

 _Maybe_ , Mickey thought, _maybe staying is the right thing to do. Maybe I belong here. Maybe I belong with Ian. Maybe…_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think!! I'm in love with the idea of Mickey staying with the Gallaghers (and defending his and Ian's relationship). Let's just pretend that the story ended there, yeah??
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day <3


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